


Guilty

by Anonymous



Category: Original Work
Genre: Character Death, Other, Self-Harm, Suicidal Thoughts, Triggers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-03
Updated: 2020-08-03
Packaged: 2021-03-05 18:55:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 676
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25680199
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: This is a small drabble I wrote when I was in a bad place. Please read at your own risk because it is triggering. I do not take responsibility for anyone who reads this without the warnings and gets triggered. If you feel the need to commit suicide please seek help.
Kudos: 3
Collections: Anonymous





	Guilty

**Author's Note:**

> THIS CONTAINS GRAPHIC SELF HARM AND SUICIDE PLEASE READ AT YOUR OWN RISK. 
> 
> PLEASE SEEK HELP IF YOU FEEL LIKE COMMITTING SUICIDE!

You were going to do it.

Today would be the day you died. You'd had enough of living. The fake smiles from those you called friends, the empty words uttered by their lying lips. 

You were done with it. It was too hard to handle, the weight of all your troubles and worries crushing you. It was hard to breathe as your chest always felt like it was constricted. 

Stripping down to your naked skin, you changed into a pretty dress. A rich dark blue fabric that spilled around your knees, flowy and light. Short, fluttery sleeves rested on your shoulders. 

You took a glance in the mirror, seeing all your flaws. The blemishes on your skin, your too thin lips, too big eyes. Everything about you was a flaw. 

You decided to leave your hair down, the strands framing your ugly face. Everything was going to be better soon. You had drawn a bath, the hot water steaming up the bathroom, comforting you in a way. 

Sliding in you sighed, relishing the warmth against your body, knowing that this was the last time you would be warm again.

On the side of the bathtub was your way out, a shining silver razor, something so small being so dangerous. 

If you were being honest, the pain from the razor didn't bring relief. Instead it brought regret. Regret that you had to even do this. It was too easy to just slice your wrists open, the hard sting bringing tears to your eyes. 

Once both wrists were sufficiently mauled you dropped the now bloodied razor to the floor, one hand hanging over the edge of the bathtub. 

You swore to yourself that you could hear the drip drops of your precious blood hitting the tiled floor, like a clock counting down to your passing. 

Everything was getting fuzzy, your eyes becoming harder to keep open. Your body was losing the fight to stay alive, your breaths coming out in shallow gasps, your heart slowly giving up. 

Finally you were gone. It wasn't like the movies where the main character could see the light. No it wasn't like that at all. The only thing you felt was cold. Just complete and utter cold. 

If you were able to see yourself you would have seen your boyfriend finding your lifeless body in the bathtub, the water tinged red from your blood. Your eyes were still open, staring at the ceiling as if you were daydreaming. 

You would have seen your boyfriend cry out in anguish, pulling your body from the now cold water, trying to revive you.

It was too late however. You were gone. 

The news spread of your passing, your family getting the news first. Your father sobbed as he shakily held the phone to his ear, not wanting to believe that it was real. Your sister found out next, her body giving out beneath her as she cried silently. 

Your friends were all shocked and in disbelief. They thought you were fine. They thought they were helping you. But they didn't. They should have tried harder. Should have done more. They didn't know it but they felt guilty.

Your funeral was a week later, your body being displayed in an open casket. Friends and family came to mourn. They thought you died too early. You thought you died too late. 

No one realized how much you hated living, how much you hated yourself. 

If only they had just bothered to dig a little deeper, ask more questions, care. Then maybe you would still be around. 

Maybe you wouldn't be dead and displayed as they cried over your lifeless body. 

Not too surprisingly the only people who mourned you for the rest of their lives were your family and boyfriend. All the people who you thought were your friends simply forgot about you within weeks, within months. 

It was better that you were dead. Not having to deal with the fake smiles, the empty words. 

Yes it was definitely better. You were better.

Everything was alright now. 


End file.
